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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29833440">Greaseball and Tank</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whistling_Starlight/pseuds/Whistling_Starlight'>Whistling_Starlight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Diesel Locomotion [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Greaseball cares about his gang, He’s getting better though, Tank is a hurt and grumpy old man</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 13:49:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>836</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29833440</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whistling_Starlight/pseuds/Whistling_Starlight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tank has nightmares. Greaseball does his best to distract him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Diesel Locomotion [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Greaseball and Tank</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First up is Greaseball and Tank! Been working on how I want to flesh out each of the diesels, hopefully you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it! </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cw: swearing, non-explicit mention of death</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The nightmares were back.</p><p>Greaseball lifted his head and blinked sleepily, looking over at the black and red diesel beside him. He didn’t often spend the night at the diesel shed anymore, but he was glad he had tonight.<br/>
Tank shifted again, his face contorted into an expression of discomfort. The freighter was tense, his arms and legs twitching slightly as he slept. He was mumbling to himself, and Greaseball internally winced when he heard the names ‘Oil’ and ‘Dewey’. </p><p>Tank’s dead husband and daughter.</p><p>Greaseball immediately felt a pang of sympathy for the older engine. Tank was extremely private about his past at Southern Pacific, but he’d confided in Greaseball that he’d lost his spouse and child, after the merge with Union Pacific. The long amount of time hadn’t stopped the memories hurting of course, and Tank’s grief regularly manifested into nightmares. Gear and Lube had grown concerned about the oldest member of the gang, and in response Greaseball had offered to sleep at the diesel shed. He was aware Tank had nightmares, sure, but not what they were about. </p><p>Very carefully, he shifted Gear’s head from his stomach and sat up, gently starting to shake Tank awake. Greaseball was certain he’d fallen asleep by himself, but clearly the cold weather had driven his gang to seek out the warmth radiating from the larger diesel’s engine. <br/>
“Tank? Bud, c’mon, wake up.” He kept a soft tone, not wanting to wake Gear or Lube.<br/>
He shook the freighter a little harder, starting to feel worried about how much of a hold the nightmare had over his friend.</p><p>Tank suddenly jolted awake with a shout, and Greaseball held his breath as he felt Lube stir beside him. Thankfully the railcar didn’t wake, instead simply rolling over and starting to snore softly.<br/>
His gaze darted around the darkened shed, his eyes wide with panic and slightly misty with tears. “G-Greaseball..?”</p><p>Greaseball smiled reassuringly. “S’alright mate, everything’s okay.” He soothed, making sure not to spook the freighter. “Bad dream again?”</p><p>Tank reluctantly nodded. “Yeah... same one as always. I just- fuck- I want ’em back.” He pressed his face into his thick mane of hair, his most common coping mechanism.</p><p>Before coming to AV, Tank had been coupled -and later engaged- to another diesel, named Oil. They’d taken in Dewey, a little library car, as their daughter, and their lives had been very peaceful. Until Southern and Union Pacific had merged, and Tank had been taken away from his family. He’d made plans to come back and visit, but the first time he had... he’d come back to an empty shed. His family had been killed in a derailment, only days after Tank had originally left.</p><p>Tank hadn’t been the same afterwards. He’d been a spiteful, bitter engine when Greaseball had met him. He’d blamed Union Pacific for separating him from his family, and had initially taken out his anger on the younger diesel.</p><p>“D’you remember when we first met?” The freighter diesel’s voice suddenly cut through the silence. He lifted his head, looking over to Greaseball.</p><p>Greaseball chuckled slightly and nodded. “What was it ya called me..? Oh yeah, ‘pompous Union Pacific brat’, right?” He grinned. “Lookin’ back on it, that was pretty true back then..”</p><p>Tank also laughed, gradually starting to forget the nightmare. “Yeah, you could be a fuckin’ asshole sometimes, kid. You’ve gotten better though.” </p><p>Greaseball smiled gratefully. “Thanks, bud.” He shifted slightly, laying down again. He pushed several of Tank’s thick, matted blonde locks off the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. <br/>
“Why’s your hair blonde, Tank?” He asked suddenly, glancing up the older diesel. “You’re red an’ black, where’s the yellow come from?”</p><p>Tank raised an eyebrow. “Two years we’ve known each other, and ya only ask now?” He questioned, the corner of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. “Well, happened whilst I was gettin’ a refurbishment. Some fuckin’ dumbass used <em>bleach</em> on my cab interior, stained the whole damn thing. Can’t get it out, so I’m stuck with the blonde look.”</p><p>Greaseball snorted slightly, trying his best not to laugh. Tank glanced at him, pretending to scowl, before chuckling. “Ah, ya can laugh mate. S’pretty funny, looking back on it.”<br/>
Regaining his composure, Greaseball’s expression turned a little more sincere. “You feelin’ okay now?” He asked softly.</p><p>The older diesel shrugged. “Dunno if I’m gonna be ‘okay’ for a long while. But I’m over the nightmare if that’s s’what ya mean. And anyways,” He glanced down at Gear and Lube, the younger engines sprawled over them. “Got these li’l shitheads to look out for now.” <br/>
He stroked a hand through Gear’s hair. Despite his gruff demeanour and razor-sharp tongue, Tank cared a lot about the diesels; about his family.</p><p>Nodding slightly, Greaseball rolled onto his side, turning his back to Tank. “Night, Tank.” He mumbled, already starting to fall asleep again.</p><p>Tank smiled softly, also settling himself for sleep. “Night, Greaseball.”</p><p>The nightmares were gone for a long time after.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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